6. SoonerLater
6
Sooner Or Later
WINTER
Sometimes in life, certain places remind you of a certain song. Certain songs remind you of acertain feeling, and certain feelings remind you of a certain person. As we drive in silence toward my mother’s house, I listen to the song raging on the radio: “Highway ToHell.”
Oh, the irony.
Grabbing my phone, I read the conversation between me and Allie. I’ve kept her updated all throughout our apartment hunting.
Winter: FOUND A PLACE!
Allie: NO WAY? ALREADY?! YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS, RIGHT? HOUSE-WARMING PARTYYY ;)
Winter: YES. But we might need some furniture first.
Allie: Good point. Furniture shopping tomorrow?
Winter: You know it.
Allie: Text you when I leave my house. I CAN’T WAIT.
I smile and lean back into the passenger seat.
Allie and I had planned on moving together as soon as I came back from Florida. We were going to go furniture shopping together, argue for hours, only to end up opting for our first choice; we had it all mapped out. It goes without saying that my showing up with a boyfriend shattered our hopes and dreams.
To make up for ditching her, I promised I’d ask for her opinion on everything regarding my apartment, which is why I’m taking her shopping with Haze and me tomorrow. On the bright side, my backing out of our agreement actually worked out in her favor since she’s a bit tight on money. She’s going to stay at her mom’s and save up until her apartment is available in July, because, yes, contrary to me, her mother is not a mix of every single villain ever created.
A distracted and thoughtful Haze pulls up to the driveway of my parents’ house. He’s been like this since the phone call with our landlord. Is he having second thoughts about us moving in together? I sure hope not.
We just dropped Kendrick and Will at a rent-a-car place. Truth be told, we were more than happy to get a break as our brains were close to imploding from listening to them laugh at their own jokes all day. Will faked most of it, I could tell—he still has this haunting sadness in his eyes—but Kendrick took his job as his own biggest fan very seriously. They said they wanted to explore the city, but we all know they just weren’t keen on driving around in my dad’s van all summer. I know Haze wants to get a car, but until then, we’ll proudly own up to our titles of coolest caravan-driving kids in town.
I notice my mother’s car isn’t in the driveway and frown. It’s past six. My family should be home eating dinner by now. My stomach screams at the thought. I’m starving. We haven’t eaten since breakfast.
Still trapped in this heavy silence, we make our way to the front door. The kitchen is empty and so perfectly clean you’d never know it was the victim of a pancake attack just this morning. A crumbled piece of paper lies on the table.
Went out to eat, be back later. Love you,
- Dad
“Please let there be food.” I drop the note where I found it, walk to the fridge, and open the door only to find it empty. Great. My family went out of town for the weekend, which means my parents didn’t do their usual Sunday grocery shopping. “Well, I hope you like pickles, because it’s literally all we have.”
I jump when Haze’s arm curls around my waist from behind. He doesn’t say anything, pushing the door to the fridge closed with his palm and pressing his torso to my back.
I shiver, overly sensitive to his touch, but in my defense, he’s been teasing me ever since we got here. We haven’t gotten around to really celebrating our news yet. You’d think him moving to another country for me and us getting a place together would earn me at least one hot night of passion.
“Are we alone?” he asks.
“Yep. It’s just us… and the pickles,” I laugh nervously. Really? A pickle joke?
He doesn’t speak again for a short moment.
“Why?”
“Nothing. I just don’t want your parents to walk in while I’m taking you on their kitchen table.”
My jaw drops.
Before I can reply, he’s dipped his hands under my shirt and positioned his mouth to the soft spot of skin behind my ear. He kisses my neck slowly but firmly, and I can’t move away, completely and undeniably at his mercy. He takes my earlobe between his teeth, and I emit a short yet embarrassingly loud moan. Shit.
“My… my parents could come home any second,” I whisper.
“I know.”
“They could see us.”
“I know,” he repeats, still without a single fuck given.
“I…”
“Something wrong, baby?” His breath bounces off my skin. I can’t focus on anything other than the sensation of his mouth working my neck.
“Haze.” His name slips out of my mouth, and the sound sets him off. It’s like a switch, a click. He grips my waist, spins me around, and plasters my back to the closed fridge with a force I didn’t expect. At first, I think he’s going kiss me, but the cockiness gleaming in his gaze tells me he’s not done playing with me just yet. He leans in, stopping right where he shouldn’t, only inches away from my mouth. He smirks.
Asshole.
I pout. And his smirk evolves into a smile.
In a heartbeat, he lowers his lips to mine. The kiss is unbearably slow, gentle. He wants me to beg for it. Let’s be real, I already am . I grip the collar of his shirt, yearning for more. His left hand trails down my side, and he cups my a…
“I think I just threw up in my mouth.”
I push Haze off me so fast you’d think your girl developed superpowers.
There, leaning against the kitchen doorway, is a girl-making-out-with-boyfriend-in-her-parents’-house nightmare.
The fourteen-year-old brother.
“Jay?” I bring a palm to my rising chest. “You’re… You’re home,” I state, but it comes out as a question.
“Looks like it, doesn’t it?” My brother grins, his eyes swinging between Haze and me for long seconds. “Dad said you were back. I wanted to see you.”
Idiot, you knew he was coming home tonight. I can’t believe I thought he went to the restaurant with them. I should’ve known. You’d have to pay this kid to get out of the house. I bet he only went on a trip with them last weekend because he bribed my dad into buying him a game he wanted.
I take in his appearance. He hasn’t changed one bit, wearing his go-to overwashed Iron Man T-shirt and cargo pants. His long, dirty, brown hair—I’m not talking color, it’s literally dirty—falls in front of his eyes and stops a bit under his shoulders, making me wonder how he’s not considered legally blind by society. We’ve been trying—and failing—to convince him to get a haircut for the past three years now. He says he looks better like this. I say his future self will have a good laugh one day. Oh, and showering is also an unknown concept to the kid. We’re hoping that changes once he gets a girlfriend.
“How long have you been standing there?” I ask, horrified.
“Just walked in,” he says, and relief rises within me.
Jaden and I have always been close. I was his role model growing up—weird, I know. As a kid, he’d constantly follow me around, desperate to hang out with me and my friends. I remember finding that so annoying. Typical sibling problems. I’m sure he would’ve preferred having a big brother, but he got me: crazy Winter, who dared him to fit ninety marshmallows into his mouth before our mother came back from the bathroom. Then puberty showed its face, and he started groaning at anyone who dared talk to him. I consider myself to be lucky. He says actual words to me sometimes.
“Are you going to introduce me to the guy shoving his tongue down your throat, sis?”
I almost choke on air.
“Jay! You can’t say things like that.” I sound so ridiculous I cringe at my own words. Trying to discipline him is a complete waste of time. This is Jaden. He once walked up to an overweight lady and asked her when her due date was in the middle of Taco Bell.
“Yes, I can. I just did?” He arches an eyebrow.
I clear my throat. “Jaden, this is Haze. Haze, this is Jaden.”
Jay scoffs. “Haze, huh? Weird name. Your parents hated you or something?”
I glance back at Haze, who doesn’t seem a tiny bit fazed by my brother’s complete lack of manners.
“Yeah, they did, actually.”
Jay’s mouth opens. Caught off guard, he searches for a good comeback but fails, pressing his lips into a line. He walked right into that one.
“In my defense, they hate the entire human race,” Haze adds, and I bite back a laugh. “How old are you?”
“None of your business,” Jay spits out. Man, he’s mastered his rude teenager lines down to a T.
“He’s fourteen.” I direct my attention back to my brother. “Don’t be rude!”
“Since when do you have a boyfriend?” he deflects.
“A few months ago,” I say and watch him head for the fridge. He finds out, just as I did, that it’s empty and groans, settling for a glass of water. He walks by us, heading back to the living room. But then he turns around and our eyes lock. He gives me a look I don’t want to see. I knowthat look.
I hate that look.
“So… How does Caleb feel about this?”
It’s a simple question, short and straight to the point, but somehow it holds so much meaning. Haze frowns, lifting his eyes to me. Jaden smiles victoriously and walks off. I’m sure he’s just being an asshole because A, he’s threatened by the new guy in the house, and B, he’s in his “I’m mean for no reason” phase, but I could strangle him right now. He probably guessed I didn’t tell Haze about what happened.
I can feel Haze’s confused gaze on me. He opens his mouth to ask, but the front door swinging open keeps him from it. My mother, father, and sister walk in, radiating happiness and carrying takeout bags.
“Hey, pumpkin.” My dad smiles at the sight of me. “You two hungry? We got leftovers.”
“Yes, please. I’m starving.” I jump at the opportunity. “Want some?” I ask Haze. He forces a smile, nodding as I take the food my Dad is offering us. We sit around the table, and I hope to hell the questions my father bombards Haze with will wash away the memories of what just happened. But I know better than to think it won’t come back up. And I might’ve avoided this talk for now… but I won’t avoid it forever.